A while back I wrote that the tools here share a name shape: Drafting, Sliding, Lighting. The -ing is the present continuous, software as something still in motion. That post ended at eight members.
This week the family reached eleven, and none of the new names end in -ing. They are Korean words: 바짝 (Bajjak), 닿기 (Datgi), 또봄 (Ttobom).
The split that appeared on its own
I didn't plan a naming system. But lining up eleven names, a rule was already there.
The -ing names are tools for making things. You sit at a desk with them: a spec, a deck, a book, a fleet of coding agents. They live in the workshop.
The Korean names are apps for using, not making. 바짝 runs a meeting. 닿기 collects your runs. 또봄 brings back what you saved. They live in a day, not in a workshop, so they got everyday words: bajjak is pressing in close, datgi is reaching something, ttobom is seeing it again.
Tools for making get -ing. Apps for living get a Korean word.
I only noticed the rule after the names were chosen. The good ones work that way.
Where the three stand
바짝 is out. It's a macOS app you keep open while a meeting runs: a one-line purpose becomes agenda items, each carrying the condition that ends it, and when the hour is up the minutes are already written. The build is signed and notarized, and you can download it today.
닿기 and 또봄 are finished and sitting in App Store review. 닿기 turns runs you log into a journey across a map, no GPS, no tracking. 또봄 resurfaces things you saved and forgot. Both run entirely on the phone: no account, no server, nothing sent anywhere. When Apple says yes, the buttons on their pages go live.
About that photo
Eleven characters had never been in one frame. Each mascot was born separately, next to its own product, in its own colour.
So we took a family photo. One reference strip of all eleven went into an image model with strict instructions: keep every silhouette, colour and accessory, invent no one, and render the flat characters as clay figurines like the rest. The document, the firefly and the desk robot became clay. 바짝, the one product that refuses colour, stayed a black tile leaning in the back like the family member who won't dress up for photos.
That photo is the front page of aiplab.kr now. The copy next to it says what it shows: these eleven are the whole team.
What eleven means
Nothing changes about the rule that holds the family together. Each one is small, runs on your machine, keeps your work in a plain local file. The AI proposes, you accept.
What changes is the shelf. At eleven, a front page that walks through every product one screen at a time stops working, so the site got real pages this week: a tools catalogue you can actually scan, grouped by what you can download today versus what's still in review. The family will keep growing. The shelf is ready for it.
